


The Frisbee Incident (And The Events That Occured Thereafter)

by Prodigal_Sunlight



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Dark side Logan, Gen, Platonic Analogical - Freeform, Sympathetic Deceit, Sympathetic Remus, all sortsa goodies, also, also ive done some doodles and deceit?? wearing yellow and white?? :eyes:, anyway lets party, anyway next time we get some virge and remus being stupid and also maybe darkside roman?, chap two is up! we got all sorts a great stuff, come scream with me in the comments about how logan is amazing, deceit just wants to hug his friends and doesnt know why hes suddenly the bad guy, deceit: hewwo! :3, designing these costumes are so fun ngl, does logan sanders know that i would die for him, dukey throwin stillettos and throwin down, every day i fight the urge to keep this a platonic fic and not turn into a big poly smoochfest, featuring mentions of the orange side whoever that is and also spoopy patton, i do have an idea for one with lightside virgil and deceit, i love him so much he deserves to know hes a good boy, i ship everyone except roman and remus so the struggle is real, lemme know if yall are interested in spinoff oneshots for this, local boy gets frisbeed and ends up facing his ex-friends but now theyre like cool, might write some spinoffs that take place in this universe tho (potentially with shippy content), more like they're the same but they swap roles as dark sides and light sides, personality swap? sort of, remus says horny things and water is wet, some mild innuendos because remus but nothing to bad, some stuff happens that could be interpreted as shippy, virgil on top of the fridge, virgil: wow somehow i hate you even more, we meet a certain very huggable darkside workin on a redemption arc ala virgey, we'll see how it goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2020-07-09 02:18:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19879972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prodigal_Sunlight/pseuds/Prodigal_Sunlight
Summary: It was just an ordinary day of bickering and goofing off, but of course, it went wrong. Of course Roman had to imagine a frisbee heavy enough to kill god. Of course Patton had to have terrible aim. So of course the damned frisbee hits him right in the head.And if that isn't bad enough, he wakes up to find his family missing and his old villainous ex-friends fussing over him.A swap AU in which our Virgil wakes up in a world where the Dark Sides are good and his best friends are bad. Oddly enough, the people themselves aren't as different as he'd think—different, yes, but not complete opposites. As he tries to find his way home to the world where he knows who his friends are, he has to face reality that maybe things weren't so black and white to begin with.





	1. In Which Virgil Meets Some New People And Also A Particularly Powerful Frisbee

It had been a fairly ordinary and boring day, and in all honesty, that should have been more than enough to warn Virgil that something terrible was going to happen. Naturally, on one of the few days he felt more or less at ease, something would go wrong. Maybe it was his lot in life to be the universe’s punching bag.

Virgil had been in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water while the others were using the living room to brainstorm. Or at least, that was what they were supposed to be doing, himself included. Considering he had literally put distance between himself and the meeting, maybe it wouldn’t come as a surprise to hear that it wasn’t going particularly well.

“If you are going to squander work time with meaningless games that lack an objective, could you at very least do it somewhere more open?” Logan said, narrowly ducking the heavy red and gold frisbee. It ricocheted off the wall, leaving a scratch in the paint. Logan turned to look at the mark with a disapproving scowl. “You’re making a mess.”

Roman caught the frisbee, tossing it from hand to hand with a grin so bright he could probably short-circuit Vegas. “Oh come on Microsoft Turd, lighten up! I can’t be expected to work when you’re being so lame and boring! It’s like trying to teach the works Shakespeare to a… neck-tie wearing robot!”

“‘O most pernicious muse, answer, walk, in no state truth for myself.’ A quote created by a neural network trained on the works of the Bard, and quite fitting for the circumstances I think,” Logan said, rubbing his temples.

Patton fumbled when the frisbee was tossed back to him, but managed to keep a hold on it while grinning foolishly. “Come on Logan, just because he called you a robot doesn’t mean you should let Roman…”

“Don’t,” Logan warned.

“Push your buttons.”

“Nice,” Virgil mumbled, taking a sip of his water. In spite of himself, he was starting to get anxious about making sure the video idea got done in time. He’d have to get them back on track soon, but he decided not to push it yet. He’d either have to face the anxiety of continued procrastination, or the anxiety of possibly irritating the others. For all their kindness and warmth, he still wasn’t exactly used to his thoughts and opinions actually being welcome.

Logan rubbed his temples, taking a deep breath. “I am truly loathe to suggest this, but if we want to begin script writing for the next video, we must decide on an overarching concept, and soon. If we do not make some proper progress this may turn into a complete creative block. I think that it may be best to change our approach.”

Patton hurled the frisbee again—this time it bounced off the ceiling before Roman caught it, and little flakes of paint fell down. It was sort of terrifying, the level of power Patton had. But it was comforting, too, knowing such a strong force cared for them all so much. “Change our approach how?” He asked eagerly. “Are we going to play detectives again? I’ve been working on my Watson costume!”

“No,” Logan said. He paused for a moment. “Maybe later. What I am suggesting right now, however, is that we allow complete daydream mode to occur. No holds barred, so to speak.”

Virgil realized he was dropping his water. He tried to catch the glass in the split second before it hit the floor, but only ended up smacking it into the kitchen wall. It still broke and splashed all over everything, but he had bigger things to panic about. “Logan what the hell? You’re not actually saying that!“

“I am saying it,” Logan said, tilting his head to the side. “Did you not watch the words come from my mouth? It is not as if someone is speaking on my behalf, or at least, not to my knowledge.”

Roman was spinning the frisbee in the palm of his hand, only showing off now. “Oh come on My Little Emo, it’s not so bad! My room is in daydream mode all the time, and it’s a land of unspeakable adventure!”

Virgil pulled at his hoodie strings anxiously, walking out of the kitchen and back into the living room as he tried to keep his cool. Logan looked pointedly at the broken glass still on the kitchen floor, but made no comment when Virgil spoke up. “But that’s just you, Princey. Full on daydream mode means full creative effect over the mind palace. Constant creativity means that your brother can get in.” They weren’t as concerned as he was. Just this once, he wanted them to be as worried as he was about this.

“Well kiddo, I know Remus can be…” Patton pulled a face, his nose scrunching up in displeasure. “A real, um, a real mixed bag—“

“Mixed bag of garbage! Heyo!” Roman interrupted.

“—but he’s part of creativity too! And even if his ideas are usually pretty bad, the whole violent rivalry thing with Roman can really get some ideas moving!” Patton concluded, though it sounded like he wasn’t entirely keen on the idea either.

The very idea made Virgil want to melt into a puddle. It was bad enough when the Dark Sides snuck into the mind palace, now they were suggesting to just let one of them in? “Let it be on the record that I completely hate this,” Virgil said with a dark scowl.

Logan sighed, ducking once again as the frisbee narrowly missed concussing him. “I am not fond of welcoming them in either, Virgil. It may be for the best that all of us except for Roman stay in our rooms until the whole creativity feud comes and goes. If this is what is required to achieve our intended goal, then I am willing to deal with the inconvenience.”

“Or, instead of splitting up the three of us could hang out in my room!” Patton chimed in. “It wouldn’t be fair to watch Disney movies without Roman—“ Roman shot him a grateful look for that, “—but we could play Monopoly and have some good family bonding time!”

Virgil grimaced, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. “Fine,” he conceded. It wasn’t so much as he was okay with the idea as it was that he really didn’t want to be the cause of any arguments today. “So long as we don’t have to see any of the others, I’ll suffer through it.”

Patton clapped one hand against the frisbee eagerly. “Yay, that’s the spirit! Once Roman is done I’ll bake cookies and we can all catch up afterwards!” He declared happily. And honestly, listening to the contented confidence from Patton, Virgil felt a bit more okay too. “Oh! But first we gotta finish this frisbee game—Virgil, now you catch!”

It was not Patton’s fault that he had unusual gorilla-like strength, or that his dark strange son was particularly non-athletic. Neither was it his fault that his normally terrible accuracy happened to fly unusually straight. That did not stop him from screeching in distress when the frisbee utterly decked Virgil.

“I killed him!”

Virgil winced as his head slammed against the ground, unfortunately landing on the hard linoleum of the kitchen hall instead of the living room carpet. The ceiling lights swam and flared overhead. He could hear Logan worriedly listing off concussion systems, Roman grabbing him by the shoulders and shouting something, Patton in indiscernable, sobbing hysterics.

They were all impossible to make out really, like he was listening to them talk from somewhere deep under water. He blinked, but the light was so bright, it made his retinas burn. He could see the three blurry figures leaning over him. Although he couldn’t make out their faces, the colors alone were more than familiar enough—blue, red, cyan. There was a powerful ringing in his ears as he tried to steel himself. “Damn,” he mumbled. “You gotta learn some restraint, Pat.” He blinked to try and clear the blur from his vision.

There were only two figures leaning over him now. Had one of them left? Wait. It took him a split-second to recognize it wasn’t his friends now. Confusion and dread sank into his gut as his vision began to clear for the green and yellow figures leaning over him. Too soon, his vision came back into focus, but Virgil found himself really wishing that it hadn’t.

“Virgil? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Deceit.

It’s very jarring to wake up to the scaly face of a friend-turned-hated-enemy leaning over you, especially just after stressing out about the idea of him and his friends breaking into your sanctuary.

So of course the first think Virgil did was punch Deceit.

Fight or flight reflexes, of course. He didn’t mean it.

Okay so maybe he meant it.

Virgil forced himself to sit up, scooting back across the floor until his back was pressed against the wall. Deceit was clutching his nose, his forked tongue hanging out from his lips in distress. It would be an almost pitiful sight of Virgil didn’t hate his guts.

“In the spirit of fairness,” piped up a snivelly voice, “It wasn’t him that hit you with the frisbee!” And of course, it was the Duke, of course that had been the green figure. Of course Virgil’s friends would suddenly disappeared and of course his home would be invaded by two of his least favorite people.

Maybe he was still recovering from the frisbee trauma.

“If violence makes you feel better it is completely justified and I forgive you,” Deceit said, voice muffled as he still held his nose.

“Then I’m going to punch you again,” Virgil decided. He didn’t make a move to get up, though, and neither did Deceit or the Duke. The three of them simply sat there, staring at each other in silence.

Eventually, the Duke put a hand on Deceit’s shoulder and broke the silence. “Okay, so like, clearly your head is fucked up. Was that me? Do you have brain trauma? Amnesia? Aids? Do you require mouth to mouth, because I can and /will/ give you a little tongue,” he said.

Deceit patted the Duke’s hand gratefully, looking at Virgil like a wounded puppy dog. Well, the whole scales and slit pupil threw that off, so maybe just like a vaguely sad non-venomous snake. “I’m sure there are absolutely no adverse side effects whatsoever and we’ll all move on from this issue as better frie—“

“What the HELL are you two doing in here wearing those stupid outfits?” Virgil snapped, the patience his head injury had granted him finally running out.

Deceit hesitated. “Here? You mean, as in, the mind palace?”

“Duh!”

The Duke cocked an eyebrow, scowling. “Uh, because we live here, My Chemical Bromance. Clearly this proves my frisbee skills are a lethal weapon.” He paused, glancing dramatically off into the distance in a way Virgil had seen Roman often do. “I must be stopped.”

What was even happening anymore? He eyed them up distrustfully, scowling. They were wearing different clothes, for whatever reason—was this supposed to be a part of their trick?

The Duke had changed less of the two. The cut of his ridiculous tunic with the fluffy layered sleeves was largely the same—but instead of black, it was a soft warm cream color, with cheery green detailings that looked less like vomit and more like country hillsides. The subtle unsettling ornaments were gone. No teeth, no eyeballs, just a bright green rose pinned to his sash.

Deceit would be nearly unrecognizable if it weren’t for the snake skin that covered half of his face. He was wearing a sunny yellow vest over a white button-up that had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie was striped, with a pin in the shape of his emblem clipped to it. His black shawl was gone in favor of a white cape, an actual honest-to-god cape, with the end flaring out into a star-like shaped hem. His bowler-hat was yellow with a black band instead of the other way around, and it was worn at a tilt that could only be described as jaunty.

“You look ridiculous,” Virgil muttered.

The Duke gasped in offense—fragile egos seemed to be a family trait. “Oh that’s rich, coming from you! We had an agreement Virgil, I don’t mention the stripey stars thing, you don’t mention the ruffles!” The what? Virgil looked down at himself for the first time since waking up.

The others weren’t the only ones to have a costume change.

He had his hoodie still, sure—or at least it felt like his hoodie did. It was solid purple, interrupted by stars made of black and white striped felt. It felt softer, less clumsily made than it usually did. Fleece lined the hood, and in spite of the circumstances Virgil couldn’t help pressing it against his cheek. Holy cow, it was soft. Even his dirty black sneakers were gone in favor of a sleek pair of purple Converse hightops.

“Did you undress me?” he hissed in distress.

The Duke tipped his head to the side. “No?” He broke into a grin. “Did you want me to? Because that can be arranged.”

“Forget it—enough games,” he snapped. He gripped either side of his head, wincing. It felt like at any moment, it might split in three. If he had a panic attack here, in front of them— “Where are the others? What did you do to them?”

The two Dark Sides shared a baffled look. “If you mean good old Orange Juice, he’s still, uh… out of commision,” the Duke said hesitantly.

Deceit smiled in a gentle comforting way that only he could manage to make look sinister. “I’m sure that whoever it is you’re talking about is absolutely fine.”

Virgil scowled, trying to stifle his building panic. They were faking it. They were obviously faking it, how stupid did they think he was? “Trust me when I say that I’d rather take an axe to the brain than hear /you/ say that,” he snapped.

The Duke stood up, folding his arms. Virgil scrambled to his feet too, his instincts warning himself never to let anyone get the higher ground. “Lysle was trying to make you feel better, Virgil!”

Lysle. How long had it been since he heard someone use Deceit’s name? Names and symbols had never been particularly shared freely amongst the Dark Sides. But hearing the name just made him feel angrier. “That snake? He’s never helped a single person in his entire fucking life!”

“Virgil? Remus?”

The Duke glared at Virgil, hands clenched into fists. “Never helped you? I’m sorry, who is it always keep you grounded!? Because last time I checked, you can’t keep your head on straight without his help! Since when did you become such a bastard! Don’t make me frisbee you again, Panic at the Everywhere!”

Virgil snarled, his fight or flight reflexes swinging to the more aggressive end of the pendulum. “You know what? I’d like to see you try Dukey!”

Suddenly Deceit was standing too. He was between them, a hand on each of their wrists. Virgil tried to pull away, but Deceit was too stiff, his knuckles practically white. “We have to hide,” he hissed, and for a moment, Virgil could have sworn he saw a bead of sweat on those yellow scales. “Perfection is coming.”

“Perfection?” Virgil echoed.

The meaningless name seemed to be all the Duke needed to hear. He went pale, quickly dropping behind the couch. Deceit crouched too, forcing Virgil down with him. He tried to protest, but—

The fear radiating off of them hit him like a brick wall. He could feel it resonating inside him, as easy to sense as if it were his own. It felt wrong, such a vulnerable feeling coming from these two, and he tried to rationalize it, tried to find some sort of way to explain it away. But it wasn’t a trick, not this. This was pure, survival-based terror.

Footsteps. He hadn’t heard the faint woosh of anyone rising into the room, but he could hear the floor beneath the carpets creaking, as if carrying some horrific weight across them. The footsteps were moving slowly closer across the thick living room carpet, only barely audible. Virgil tried to quiet his breathing. Deceit squeezed his hand, as if for comfort, and he didn’t dare risk drawing any attention to their corner of the room by trying to pull away.

A chuckle echoed off the living room walls, so strangely mirthless. “That’s funny! I could have sworn I heard someone using their potty-mouth!” The unseen figure said. Their voice was bright, full of energy, but held no warmth. It felt like staring into the bulb of a flashlight. “Well if someone was swearing… I don’t approve of bad language! And if I don’t approve, it must be wrong!”

There was a few footsteps closer. Virgil could feel his heart beating faster. He closed his eyes, wishing he would wake up, wishing the others would suddenly appear and save him. “And if something is wrong… well, I sure should hate to be the miserable fella who doesn’t live up to my expectations!”

The coffee table shattered. From here it was impossible to see, but he head the bone-crunching smash, felt the small flakes of wood that had been flung over the couch landing on his skin. There was the sound of someone sinking out of the room, and then, finally, silence.

Deceit collapsed against the back of the couch as if he hadn’t dared to breathe through that entire encounter, and the Duke hesitantly peeked out to see if the coast was clear, nearly as pale as Virgil was. There had always been an unspoken rule among them, back before Virgil had left. Never let anyone see your fear. If you had a weakness, it could and would be used against you. Now, his two former friends looked like they wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“It’s all okay now,” Deceit said, though his usual refined accent was somewhat shaken. “We have nothing to fear. Remus can always imagine up a new coffee table, and no one was hurt. Everything is completely fine.”

Virgil shook his head, finally pulling his hand out of Deceit’s. He refused to acknowledge the sad confusion on Deceit’s face, simply hugging his own knees to his chest. He had to get out of here. He had to find the others before that… thing, whatever it was, got to them first. “You said that was… Perfection?”

The Duke nodded tiredly. “He’s one of the stronger Dark Sides. Probably hates us more than even the others. Doesn’t appreciate my more ‘juicy’ artistic liberties,” he said, though his usual mocking bravado was nearly all dried up.

“Well you must have really done something to piss him off,” Virgil said bitterly, scowling. “Don’t Dark Sides usually leave each other alone unless it’s an easy target?”

Duke wrinkled his nose. “Well if those fiends have a code of conduct, I certainly didn’t get the memo.” He walked over to the other side of the couch, making a dramatic gesture to the coffee table. Rather than simply proving his point, the pieces of wood and glass slowly began floating through the air, carefully putting themselves back together. It seemed odd to Virgil that something fixed with pure imagination would still have cracks, but a spiderwebs of fracture marks remained nontheless. “Besides,” the Duke added, “What would that have to do with us anyway?”

“Well, maybe we did do something to upset him,” Deceit said. “That’s probably it, right? We can apologize, and make things better, then he’ll forgive us?”

Virgil shot him a withering glare. “I’m not an idiot. You can stop pretending to be some saccharine gummy-snake already. I know you’re a Dark Side. I know what you’re really like.”

They were staring at him liked he’d stripped down naked and announced his presidency campaign for the city of Atlantis.

“Virgil,” Deceit said slowly. “Virgil the three of us are the Light Sides.”


	2. In Which Virgil is Pissed, and We See a Familiar Face

Virgil leaned to the side to avoid taking a high-heeled boot to the face. He hugged his knees to his chest, in part because the motion felt vaguely comforting, but mostly because there wasn’t much room to keep his balance on top of the refrigerator.

“Come down here and apologize to Lysle!” The Duke shouted, taking off his other boot and taking aim.

Virgil leaned to the side, avoiding the second shoe with little trouble. “Apologize? To Deceit? I don’t know what the hell is going on but I’ll apologize to him soon as he apologizes for making my life a living hell.”

The Duke scowled, though it was hard to be threatened by someone wearing Minnie Mouse socks. “First of all, Deceit? Who even is— you know what, forget it, just forget it, I’m sorry for the stupid frisbee thing Virgil! Now stop being an asshole or I’m going to smite your stupid emo ass!”

Virgil paused, as if considering this. “Fine. But you have to do something for me first.”

Finally the Duke relaxed, clearly relieved his boot throwing had not been in vain. “Yes?”

“Suck a fucking cactus.”

That, shockingly, only led to more angry bickering. By the time the Duke was trying in vain to climb up the fridge himself, Deceit seemed to have collected himself, putting a hand on Remus’s shoulder.“Let’s think through this calmly,” he said, his voice patient and soothing. “Virgil claims to remember things differently, with us as the villains and the Dark Sides as his friends.” Although Remus began to sputter in protest, Deceit continued. “It sounds… unlikely, but Virgil, it’s clear you’re adamant about this.”“Yeah, no shit,” Virgil muttered.

Deceit nodded thoughtfully. “Well, we do have a friend who might know the answer,” he said, glancing at Remus with a look that seemed almost apologetic. Remus groaned. “Ugh, do we have to? He’s always complaining about my ideas and calling them ‘stupid’ or ‘physically impossible.’”

Deceit frowned, folding his arms. “Come now Remus, he may be bit… tightly wound, but at least he’s fairly reasonable. And he’s been doing so much better these days, you know how hard he tries.” Virgil scooted up to the edge of the refrigerator, peering down at them curiously. “What are you talking about?”

“We have a bit of a friendship with one of the other sides,” Deceit said, looking up at him. “Or, I suppose, a tentative acquaintanceship. Ordinarily you’re the one who’s gotten closest to him. He may be able to solve some things for all of us.”

Finally, Virgil jumped off the fridge, ignoring Remus sticking out his tongue at him. “Really? Then why don’t we summon him?”

Remus grimaced, wincing slightly. “Slow your roll Dark Knight, if we call him out in the open Mindpalace, there’s a chance Perfection will follow to see what’s up. And even if I haven’t technically done anything wrong—recently, anyway—one close call a day is enough, thank you.”

Deceit nodded, turning to leave. “We’ll call him to my room, we should be hidden there. If there’s any understanding or solving this, he’ll be the one who can do it.”

Virgil put a hand on Deceit’s shoulder to stop him, then quickly pulled back. When was the last time he’d touched Deceit? Or any of the Dark Sides, really? He brushed off the thought irritably. “How do I know this isn’t a trap?"

“Just because he’s a snake doesn’t mean he’s into bondage, Virgey,” Remus said in a sing-song voice. “That’s more my thing.”

Deceit looked at Virgil with a sad soft smile that looked utterly too sympathetic on the face of a conniving bastard. “I know you don’t trust me, now, but we aren’t going to hurt you. I promise. If you want you can stand right next to the door, even keep it open a crack. Alright? Everything is going to be fine.”

The master of lies was promising safety, promising to take care of him. Every fibre in his body screamed of the dangers of past experience, the certainty that this was a mistake. But in spite of it all, he couldn’t help a tiny nod. “Fine. But if you try anything funny, you’re dead.”

It was strange, following them down the familiar hallway where his friends all lived. But there was no bright red door painted with golden castles, no pale blue door plastered in cartoon stickers, no navy door with simple geometric patterns. Of the four doors here, only one he recognized, his own. But even that was different—the paint was a lighter shade of purple, and rather than chipping and peeling, it was carefully polished, with a white trim around the doorframe. The other three doors weren’t even slightly like they should’ve been.

Virgil followed Deceit and Remus to a pastel yellow door. It was painted with strands of white ivy, each curling into delicate strands around the two-headed snake decorating the center. Even the doorknob was somewhat classy, made of several intertwined wrought-iron serpents. There was even a welcome mat sitting in the hall, with the word “Salutations” written in cursive.

Deceit opened the door, and hesitantly, Virgil followed. Standing just inside the doorway, he glanced around.

He had been in Deceit’s room once or twice before, but now it was different. Instead of dark and dismal as the rooms of Dark Sides rooms often felt, it was warm, a soft golden glow suffused throughout. There was an open closet full of various clothes mostly in yellows and whites. There was a vanity, the sort you’d find in a rehearsal room with lights framing the mirror. Makeup was neatly arranged on one side, with a small stack of spare hats on the other. There was a full wall of bookshelves—Virgil’s eyes flickered over the titles, taking in the variety of books ranging from philosophy, to play scripts, to law books. Most notable was Deceit’s pet anaconda, its giant coils sprawled out across the couch as it slept in the sourceless sunlight.

Remus immediately got on the couch, crawling between the huge coils of the snake. It opened its eyes sleepily, flickered its tongue, then drifted off again, as if used to the occasional pestering from Remus. Deceit headed toward the couch too, though paused by vanity to check his makeup.

It was… strange. The Dark Sides had always preferred to keep to their own rooms whenever they could, and when they were out in the common areas, so many days their interactions had devolved into arguments, or fights. There had been a sense of family, sort of, but only out of the certainty that they were all any of them had. That no one else would take them.

And here was Remus, cuddling up with Deceit’s pet as if he did it every day, stroking its scales almost as if out of habit rather than intent. And here was Deceit, glancing up from checking his makeup to spare them an affectionate smile.

“If you feel comfortable enough to come in, there’s another chair over there,” Deceit said, pointing at a small armchair in the corner. “The couch is admittedly a bit… full.”

“Or you could come cuddle,” Remus said in a sing-song voice, as if he were extending some undeniable offer. He lifted up an armful of snake, patting the couch cushion beneath it.

Virgil took the armchair without saying anything, pulling his feet up onto the chair and hugging his knees to his chest. ‘Remus didn’t look hurt,’ Virgil told himself. ‘Remus doesn’t give a shit about you, remember?’

Deceit nodded, taking off his bowler hat and setting it atop the small stack of other hats. His hair was messy, and just a little curly from the perspiration. He sat down on the stool at his vanity, sliding off his gloves as he spoke. “Before we call him here, I must admit. I am… somewhat hoping we can talk.”

“Talk?” Virgil echoed, narrowing his eyes. “We have nothing to talk about.”

Deceit put his hands up defensively, shaking his head. “I don’t mean the animosity you have towards us,” he said, his voice soft at the mention of it. “Well, I do. Somewhat. I must ask, if you have similar feelings when we call him here, that you refrain from sharing them. He’s come such a long way Virgil, and he’s trying so hard to be more than a Dark Side. And you, being closest to him, if you were to say unkind things I… well, I fear it may harm what progress he has made.”

If this really was somehow an elaborate stupid trick, then they knew exactly how to get to him. He could almost imagine Patton trying to tell Roman something similar only a year ago, or Logan discussing the fragility of his progress. He’d come so much further, and he felt more so now that he did belong, but he could still remember the struggle, the constant uphill battle he’d faced trying to step out of the darkness.

He wondered what it would be like, finally meeting someone trying to take the same path he did. He wondered if they’d see him and feel like they were doing the right thing trying to be better.

“Fine,” Virgil muttered, rolling his eyes and shrugging as if it meant nothing to him. “Fine,” he repeated. “I won’t call your little friend a stupid bitch or whatever. “Now you said he can help me get home, right? Hurry up and call him here.”

Deceit nodded, making a brief flourish as he raised his hand. Rather than rising into the room, a fourth figure was in the room with no fanfare, simply the sudden arrival the Dark Sides often had.

The new side in the room, as all of them did, had the face and form of Thomas—yet he lacked the cheery smile, or the warm open posture. His stance was stiff, his expression completely impassive. He was dressed in a long black coat with a high collar, thin and light, almost like a lab coat. Beneath the coat he wore a dark, navy blue button down, with a plain back tie knotted with mathematical precision. He had a pair of dark gray slacks and flat black dress shoes with the same shade of navy blue for the soles. He wore a simple pair of wireframe glasses that did nothing to hide the pattern of glowing blue diodes and lights beneath his eyes, almost like freckles.

Impossibly, his stiff posture became even more rigid when he was summoned, though as he glanced around the room, he seemed to almost relax. He reached up, adjusting his glasses with a deep breath. “Hope, Creativity, Vigilance. It is incredibly disappointing that you continue to ignore the visitation schedule I provided. If you most insist on social visits they should at the very least be structures and with purpose.”

He turned to make eye contact with Virgil. The realization was somehow both slow and sudden, as though being struck by lightning and not realizing it had happened until a few seconds late. The side was saying something about he hoped Virgil at least would know about the importance of maintaining caution and security, but the words muddle in his head, turning to mush.

“Logan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DARK SIDE LOGAN DARK SIDE LOGAN DARK SIDE LOGAN
> 
> I had a lot of fun developing AU Logan and I can't wait to explore him a bit more in future chapters! I've got a lot of ideas aaaaaaa
> 
> Also we get a peek at Deceit's room! Or at least, the mirror world version of it. He has a big-ass snake and her name is Nagini and she is the only living creature capable of ignoring Remus's bullshit. (Although she did try to eat him that one time he kept stealing her snake food)
> 
> Follow me on my Tumblr for my Sanders Sides content! I also draw em a bunch over there!  
> http://prodigal-sunlight.tumblr.com/


	3. In Which We Hear a Scientific Monologue and a Plan is Sort-of Hatched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't expect to finish this tonight but I did HERE WE GO TIME TO GET INTO ACTUAL PLOT

Logan flinched as if he’d been struck. He stared at Virgil, his impassive expression twitching slightly, subtle ticks betraying his shock and distress. He tugged at the tie around his throat as if it were suddenly too tight. “My memory is never faulty, and yet, I do not recall telling you my name,” he said, voice painfully defensive. “How exactly is it you obtained that data?”

Virgil bit his lip, slouching down, fighting between the conflicting urges to hug Logan til his bones popped or to just disappear and not have three people staring at him with varying levels of intensity. “Well uh… that’s. That’s a tricky story, Teach,” he said. He instantly winced, reminding himself this wasn’t his Logan, that he couldn’t be sure the playful nickname would be well accepted.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be as much as a problem as hearing his name. Logan took a deep breath, folding his arms. He was tapping his foot, a sure-fire sign he was trying to work through some kind of difficult puzzle. “Try me.”

Remus sat up, hugging part of Deceit’s pet snake tightly to himself. “Oh please, Paramorose, it’s not complicated! You just lack imagination,” he protested. “I hit him with a frisbee and now he’s Virgil but not our Virgil, he’s like, mirror world Virgil and he’s still an emo wussy but now he wants to throttle us and won’t use Lysle’s name and is, like, half as fun as he normally is. I mean, that or he just has a concussion.”

“We thought you might know,” Deceit said, opening up a drawer and tossing Logan something from inside—a jar of mango-flavored Crofter’s jelly. Virgil tried to get a look at the rest of the drawer, but Deceit quickly shut it. “Would you be ever so kind as to tell Remus that’s really not possible, then explain how to deal with a concussion?”

Logan caught the Crofter’s, though for once his attention was not on the sugary fruit preserve. He was staring at Virgil with an intense thoughtfulness that made him feel like a butterfly pinned beneath a magnifying glass. Still watching him intently, Logan unscrewed the lid, pulled a spoon from his pocket, and began to eat the jelly.

“It isn’t impossible, actually.”

“Really?” Deceit asked, visibly dismayed that it wasn’t so simple.

“Really?” Remus asked, visibly delighted that such a fantastical concept could be true.

“Really,” Logan said firmly, licking some stray jelly from his lip.

He sat down on Deceit’s bed, screwing the lid back on the jar and tucking it in the pocket of his black lab coat, giving it a gentle pat for safekeeping. “If this were the real world, the chances of crossing between dimensions should we prove them to exist would be nigh infinitesimal. However, this is not the real world. We are mental concepts, pieces of a mind,” Logan said, gesturing absently with his hands as if he really wanted some sort of visual material to accompany his lecturing.

Deceit glanced at Virgil with a hesitant, almost apologetic expression. “And yet, I’ve been finding myself doubtful. Seemed the best case scenario was our emo was playing a joke. So… you really are from somewhere else?”

Logan interrupted before Virgil could say, ‘no duh,’ continuing his speech. “I have reason to believe it is possible beyond simple speculation. Various tests I have run on the chemical levels in Thomas’s brain have suggested we exist in a part of the subconscious, a replication of the rest of his mind. Based on the theory I developed, we are recreations of his various ‘sides’ seen through inverted lights. We are the same entities, but our merits are shifted. That which is good is viewed as corrupt. That which is corrupt is viewed as good.” He turned to face Virgil, his expression becoming unusually emotive, somewhat hesitant. “So, I take it then, where you originate from, you are a Dark Side?”

Virgil took a deep breath. “No. I’m not. Not anymore, anyway.” He hesitated, cautiously resting a hand on Logan’s shoulder, as though afraid of spooking a skittish animal. “And I dunno why the hell anyone would think you are either. You’re the same here as you are over there.” He couldn’t help but grin. “A huge nerd.”

Logan scowled, but the corner of his mouth was turned up into a hidden smile. Getting a rise out of him was never hard. But getting him to smile was always something Virgil couldn’t help but be proud of. “At least I am not enshrouded in the salmagundi pastiche of royal purples and white on an ill-fitting early 2000’s outer garment,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “Well, now that we have ascertained the issue, we simply need to identify a solution. Furthermore for the sake of manners and preserving feels I will state that while I do bear no ill will and do enjoy your company, I must recommend that you, ahem, ‘gtfo’ for both your sake and ours.”

Remus nodded, craning his head to not disappear beneath several coils of cuddly python. “Yeah! If you’re gonna be a little bitch I want the other Virgil back!”

“And, of course, you have stated how much you want to return home,” Deceit said, nodding. “And our Virgil—or piece of you? Reflection? I understand the situation completely. Regardless, it would be ideal to return him home before he has a panic attack. Although I’m sure he managed the transition much more seamlessly and is perfectly okay,” he added, biting his lip and looking entirely unconvinced of himself.

“Sounds like.a plan,” Virgil agreed. As relieved as he was that they were, more or less on his side, and as much as he wanted to get back to his home, /his/ family, he couldn’t help a faint bitter aching in his chest. He ignored it. Probably not important.

Logan frowned. “It is not a plan. It is a mission statement with no means of achieving said goal. How are we meant to go about this?”

Remus stuck his tongue out. “C’mon specs, you’re supposed to be the big-brained one! Obviously I just hit him with my frisbee again!”

Knowing Logan would be willing to do anything (repeatedly, for hours on end) for the sake of the scientific method and that Dee seemed ready to do whatever it took, Virgil quickly took control of the conversation. “Logan, you said you have some research. You’ve probably done some stuff on hypothetical switching between the two worlds, right?”“Although referring to them as separate worlds is only accurate from a thematic sense, yes,” Logan said. “If we were able to travel to the core of the Mindpalace, your awareness of the conscious mind may be enough to create a bridge allowing you to transfer back, given that the Virgil we are familiar with travelled to the alternate Mindpalace’s core as well.”

Deceit nodded, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Hopefully the Logan on that end will come up with the same idea,” he said.

Remus frowned slightly. “Is that such a good idea, though?” And at that, everyone stopped. Remus never cared which ideas were good and which were bad unless something was really, really wrong.

“What is it, Rem?” Deceit said softly, peeling the snoozing python off of Remus. “You said yourself you want to resolve this.”

Remus hesitated, fiddling with his hands. Virgil paused, feeling a nearly foreign feeling. He was sensing Remus’s fear. Remus was never afraid of anything, for better or for worse. The strangeness of the feeling made him almost sick. “We can’t reach the core of the Mindpalace without every sides’ key. What about the Dark Sides? What about my brother? Are we going to have to fight them?”

Virgil opened his mouth to speak, but after a moment, he closed it. He was the fight or flight reflex. As desperate as he was to go home, to be with the people he loved, he couldn’t bring himself to think putting themselves in danger was a good idea.

“Nonsense,” Logan said. “Only one of us needs to obtain the key, and it only makes sense for it to be me.”

“God, are you sure you’re Logan? Because you sound really fucking dumb right now,” Virgil said, folding his arms. “How does that make sense?”

Logan paused, glancing at each of them in turn. “The others recognize me as one of them. A ‘Dark Side’ as you say. Even if we are not… particularly close, especially due to my recent escapades to spend time with the three of you, I can get into their rooms. I am most likely to succeed at subtly stealing their keys. Furthermore, I am the least necessary to Thomas’s function, so if I were to—“

Remus shouted in dismay, and Deceit winced, biting his thumb. “Come now, is it really true that—“

Virgil didn’t let them try and offer comfort. He just snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. It was honestly bizzare, hearing a thought he’d struggled with so many times coming from the mouth of someone who’d always seemed so self-assured and steady. “Geez, L, you honestly think there’s nothing you have to offer the team except dying?”

Logan did not return the smile, but he watched Virgil intently, something behind his eyes thoughtful and focused. Maybe even hopeful. “It is difficult to think of a form in which apathy provides any form of benefit. I have been told time and time again that I fail to account for the importance of emotions.”

For a moment, Virgil paused, glancing between the three sides. “Apathy?”

Deceit opened his mouth to speak before thinking better of it. Instead, it was Logan who responded.

“Yes,” he said solemnly. “Apathy. It is what I represent. I can understand the failings in you and your friends, as well as the merits in my… colleagues. But I have yet to understand a form of myself that provides more emotional assistance than emotional harm. You may not share memories with your mirror self, but I have told you many times, Virgil. This is simply what I am. I have come to accept it. The sooner you do as well, the sooner we can move on to more relevant matters.” Deceit made a soft sympathetic noise, stepping closer to softly pat Logan on the shoulder.

Virgil laughed. He immediately felt like a piece of shit for it and was reconsidering his stance on the worth of actually existing as opposed to being a non-sentient puddle. “Shit, sorry, sorry, it’s just, like, I dunno how you’re such a dumbass.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Ordinarily, this is the part when you attempt to emotionally reassure me and I try and believe you.”

“Okay, but like, I don’t need to! You’re just talking nonsense, Logan! Dee, you’re the king of all lies, point out how obviously wrong he is,” Virgil instructed. After a bit of lisped stammering, Virgil frowned, biting his lip. “Right, that’s not your thing here. Point is! You’re being wrong and stupid.”

Virgil walked closer to Logan, noting the subtle familiarities that kept him distinct from the others, and yet identical to his alternate self. The perfect posture, the angular build, the slight narrowing of his eyes as he squinted through his glasses. It was strange, thinking of “this Logan” and “his Logan,” when the two felt so synchronized, so similar they really were two sides of a coin. “Your job isn’t to provide emotional support. At least, not directly. Your job is to keep Thomas alive, aware, and working. When he’s emotional, when he’s hurting, you take an objective standpoint,” Virgil said. “You think, ‘here is a problem, how do I solve it?’

“Hell, you keep me from losing it every day! When I’m getting worked up over something stupid, you point out how stupid it is! You don’t get caught up in the stress or the panic. You’re calm and you’re smart and you get things done.” Virgil smiled, shaking his head, a tiny laugh escaping him. “Just because you work differently from what is ‘right’ doesn’t mean you’re broken. You’re more than Apathy. You’re focus, precision, dedication. You’re Logic. And you’re one of my best friends,” he said. He took a step forward, then hesitated, not certain whether he was crossing a boundary.

But then Logan crossed it for him, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around Virgil. The embrace was tight, and Logan’s skin was cold, but it was familiar and wonderful and like being at home again. Virgil awkward patted Logan’s back in smooth, comforting circles, feeling the slight heaving as the other side cried into his shoulder.

“Logically speaking,” Logan murmured, voice soft and hoarse. “It would be best we move quickly to obtain the keys. But… before we do, can you tell me again? Please.”

Virgil nodded, closing his eyes, speaking softly. “You’re not broken. You’re not bad. And you’re one of my best friends.” And for the first time since waking up, Virgil didn’t feel afraid. It was another feeling, similar, but distinct, full of affection and relief. Protective. Not for his own sake, but for someone else. “It’s all going to be okay,” he said, and he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something is just so satisfying to me about Virgil helping someone else grow,, it would be such a good part for his story arc,, but maybe I'm just a sucker for post-redemption fluffy stuff idkkkkk
> 
> Anyway! Next chapter, the squad starts collecting keys! I wanna have at least one chapter with a focus on Virgil's relationship with each character (maaaybe more depending on how things go? we'll see) but thats all for now, cry with me in the comments about how Logan is a good boy who deserves to know his contributions are valid and wonderful
> 
> (Uhhhh before I go I was GONNA have a Snakeberry Crofters as a lil nod to how there's Logansberry Crofters but snakeberries are actually deadly nightshade and poisonous jam would have completely altered the course of this chapter, so,)


	4. In Which a Heist is Planned and Things Are Sorta Okay (For Now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guess whos not dead :P

It took a bit of cajoling, but eventually Remus stopped imagining up tangoing squids and tiny rodents in cowboy hats and actually summoned the supplies Logan had asked for. They rolled the large sheet of paper out on the floor of Deceit’s room, stacking books on the corner so it would stay flat. Logan pulled a black marker out of his shirt pocket and knelt down, clearing his throat.

“This is the hub of the mindpalace,” he began, drawing a small square. “Most often it takes the form of Thomas’s living room, as it is the most familiar place due to his complete and utter lack of physical activity.”

Virgil elbowed him softly. “Save the speeches on fitness for later, we have a mission, remember?”

“Right.” Logan leaned forward, drawing several hallways leading off the living room. “From there, the mindpalace spreads out. Most places we can move instantaneously or will shift as Thomas’s thoughts do so, but the general structure has four main hallways. North leads here, to the light side rooms. South leads to the basement, where the dark side rooms are. We needn’t visit my room, as I already have my key with me. Perfection’s key is always kept in his room. Escapism, however, poses an issue.”Remus groans, pulling a face. “Ugh, right, my baby brother.” He reached behind his ear, grabbing a quill pen that almost certainly hadn’t been there a moment ago and scribbling down a third hallway. “He’s always out in the Imagination, out this uhh… east? The east hall? But like, he’s gone and basically bubbled up the whole place. Says ‘nothing bad is allowed to happen to the good guys’.”

“You’re brother,” Virgil said, pausing. “Roman, right. I don’t get it, what’s so bad about wanting things to be good? I figured you and him would just switch and he has all the nasty creativity or something.”Deceit sighed. “If only Roman were the one with the nastier inclinations.”Remus stuck out his tongue. “Boo, you whore.” He leaned back, sighing. “And like, I get it! People like happy ever afters and whatever. But he says nothing bad is allowed to happen. Ever. Like, at all. Which means there’s no villains for his army of knights to do battle with, no love triangles to stir up the passions of the heart and the loins, no nothing! He even brainwashed my dragonwitch! He basically thought up a kingdom that takes up most of the Imagination then dropped a giant glass bubble on it. The problem with Romy is he’s boring, and worse than that, he’s delusional.”

Logan shook his head. “He believes in the idealized world that Perfection is obsessed with, and neither wants to listen when I tell them it doesn’t function. It took me a long time to realize my lack of understanding in their dream was pragmatism, not my… aversion to emotion.”

“So we have to break into a big fantasy bubble kingdom,” Virgil said, biting his lip. “Staffed entirely by overpowered knights or whatever completely flawless unproblematic thing Roman dreamed up. And it’s covered by a giant glass bubble.”

“And he has the dragonwitch!” Remus added unhelpfully.

Virgil rubbed his temples, grimacing. “Right. And the dragonwitch. So we just need to break into this big magic super country and find the single key somewhere in the middle of this big city kingdom thing and also it’s probably being guarded by a Dark Side.”

“Well that sounds like it’ll be easy as can be,” Deceit added, even more unhelpfully.

“Falsehood, it will be quite difficult,” Logan said. “The fourth and final hall leads to the core of the mindscape, which we cannot enter without all of the keys. If Escapism even suspects our intrusion, we’ll be in grave danger, especially once he sends for help from Perfection. It may be in our best interests to split up.”

Virgil grimaced. “I don’t like the sound of that. Didn’t I just have a whole dramatic no-side-left-behind moment with you Lo?”

The corner of Logan’s mouth twitched in a hint of a smile. “This is not about self-sacrifice. It is the… logical thing to do,” he said slowly, as though savoring the word. “You and Remus will enter the city. Being formerly a single side, the inhabitants of the Imagination will be unable to sense any difference between Remus and Roman. As Vigilance, you can temporarily relax Thomas’s mind so that the Imagination will be lax enough to allow you to slip through unnoticed. While Lysle and I both lack these advantages, he is skilled with falsehoods and I have inside access, which would allow us to lead Perfection on a metaphorical wild goose chase so he cannot provide backup to Roman.”

Virgil glanced between Logan and Deceit, frowning. “Yeah. I’m sure tricking people will be right up your wheelhouse.” Turning away before he could see the snake’s reaction, he continued. “The idea of splitting up the group makes me—surprise—anxious. How will we know what to do once we get inside? Are we just running in blind?”

Remus cackled, digging inside the pocket of his jacket eagerly. “That’s where you’re wrong My Space-out! Behold!” With a dramatic flourish, her revealed a tiny white octopus laying limply in his hand. “Penelope Panties-Peeker!”Virgil waited for an explanation, but Deceit just grinned and Logan seemed just as lost. “So, how does calamari help?” He asked impatiently.

“How dare you!” Remus gasped. “Betraying our friendship is cold. Calling Lysle that mean name is nasty. But forgetting Penelope Panties-Peeker? Have you no damn soul? You bonded! You bonded Virgey, she comfort you in her sticky, wet, cold and slimy arms!” He wailed, shoving the tiny octopus in Virgil’s face.  
Virgil stumbled back, nearly falling over. “Geez, okay, I’m sorry, sorry!”

Remus grinned, sticking the golfball-sized cephalopod on his shirt like a sticker. “Ha, nerd. Anyway! Penelope Panties-Peeker is my lil sewer spy! Since Romy’s been hogging the Imagination, I created her. I can see through her eyes, so I’d have her crawl into his big ol’ bubble and just stick to people so I could watch stuff and be less bored. And yeah, occasionally I’d have her wreck a little shit, just to try and make some fun in paradise, because she’s daddy’s lil monster,” he cooed, using a finger to stroke the tiny octopus.

“So it’s not dead?” He asked.

Logan nodded, seeming satisfied. “So we have a distraction, a way in, and information on the inside. Remus, you know your brother better than any of us, even me. Where would he hide the key?”

“Oh definitely the castle throne room,” Remus answered immediately. “Probably under the seat cushion on the big throne—if he was feeling smart when he put it there it’ll be inside the cushion, like, right past the zipper, but probably not any more hidden than that.”

Deceit clapped his hands together, smirking. “Now we’re really getting somewhere. I’ll shapeshift to look like Escapism, Ap—“ he paused. “…Logan, and I. Is it okay if I call you Logan? Logan. Logan and I can pretend we had some top-secret Dark Side business we need to discuss with Perfection. All you have to do is make it from the gates of the Imagination to the castle without being caught. Easy.”

“Falsehood again. At first I was quite baffled by Virgil’s insistance on calling you Deceit, but I suppose it does fit surprisingly well,” Logan said thoughtfully. Deceit fell quiet as Logan continued on. “And in truth, it does raise some fascinating philosophical questions. Could hope be considered a form of lying to one’s self? Creating false beliefs with limited or no evidence for the sake of managing emotional well-being? Arguably it could be a form of white lie—“

“Logan,” Remus snapped. “Cut it out, you’re making Lysle feel bad.”

Logan paused, tilting his head to the side. “Oh. I was?” He turned to Deceit, hesitating. “I was not aware. I am… sorry.”

Deceit paused, then shook his head, an easy smile on his face. “Please, it’s fine. It’s just, what, my whole purpose might be a fabrication? Big deal, why would I care if my real purpose is to lie? I’m fine.”

“He’s right anyway, Deceit fits you,” Virgil said, irritated that Deceit would make Logan feel guilty like that. “Can we get back to the whole key stealing thing now?”

Remus opened his mouth to protest, but Deceit spoke first. “Virgil is right as always. The Imagination seems vast, but if you stay focused you can move through it far more quickly. So long as you remember what to do at the border of Escapism’s kingdom nothing could possibly go wrong.” He stood up, picking his hat up from the vanity table and setting it on top of his head. He didn’t turn back to face the rest of him, watching the mirror. “Logan? I’m ready if you are.”

Logan stood up, adjusting his tie and smoothing his black coat. “I am prepared. It will seem less suspicious if Perfection sees us emerge from my room. You can shapeshift into your disguise there.” He offered a gloved hand to Deceit. The other side took it, and they locked grips, preparing to fast-travel across the mindscape. Logan turned back to Virgil and Remus. “Remember the plan. If anything goes wrong, remove yourselves immediately. Sides may regenerate in most circumstances, but Virgil’s case is an anomaly. We don’t know what will happen if anything happens.”

Virgil smirked. “Aw, Teach, you care about me.”

Logan cocked his head to the side. “Of course I do. You are one of the most beloved people in my life. Stay safe.” And with that he sunk down, pulling Deceit with him into whatever darkened version of Logic’s room existed in this part of the mind.

“Well Doctor Gloom! Looks like it’s just you, me, and lil Miss Panties-Peeker!” Remus crowed, getting to his feet. “So, whaddya say? Matching biker gang jackets? Maybe we each get half a tattoo on our buttcheeks? Team-building visit to an all-twinks gay house of prostitution?” He said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Virgil looked up at him, fighting back a snort. “No dumbass, we’re on a mission. No jackets, no butt tattoos—the gay thing, maybe if we have time after, depends on how many people are there.”

“Performance anxiety,” Remus said, sympathetically, peeling the octopus from his shirt. “Anyway! If we have to do the whole mission thing we’ll need disguises.” With his octopus-free hand, he snapped his fingers. Suddenly, Remus was decked out in a black ruffled vest with a plunging neckline and a shimmery green kilt. Underneath it he wore embroidered thigh-high stockings with a lacy edge. Barely staying on his head was a jaunty cap with a ridiculous plume of rainbow feathers so large they bent under their own weight.

Virgil finally stood up, snorting as he took in the ensemble. “Hey dumbass,” he said, flicking the largest red feather away from Remus’s face. “The point of a disguise is to hide who you are, not to play dress up.”

Remus cackled, swatting Virgil’s hand. “Oh please! Most of the characters in the Imagination are daft, especially since Roman doesn’t let them get hurt enough to go through character growth. This’ll fool everyone except my brother, and he’d see through it anyways. He knows my scent, it’s a sibling thing.”

“It’s not a sibling thing, you just smell like shit,” Virgil jeered.

“Oh shut up, and put on something a bit more fun” Remus said, snapping his fingers again. Virgil paused, glancing down. Yep, Remus had definitely changed him. Bracing himself for the worst, he turned to look at his reflection in Deceit’s vanity.

On the bright side, it wasn’t horny, and for that Virgil felt incredible grateful. On the not-so-bright side, it looked like somebody had stitched together a bunch of used purple and gray rags and dropped them on his head. “Ran out of ideas?” He asked sarcastically, picking at a few fraying threads.

Remus stuck out his tongue, summoning a satchel for Penelope Panties-Peeker to ride in. “Oh come on, everyone loves wizard-hobo chique. It’s like, you’re too busy being a magic dipshit to wear something sexy like I do, and the whole shapeless cloak hides your lack of a sword—if you know what I mean,” he said, snickering.

Virgil laughed. It wasn’t a snort, or a suppressed chuckle, just laughter. God, how long had it been since Remus had made him laugh? It was so easy to remember the times Remus’s intrusive thoughts had set him on edge, or his reckless suggestions had made him worry. But a part of him and forgotten this. The playful banter, the dumb jibes—it felt like the late nights they’d spent crowded together on the couch in the dark sides common room, watching Nightmare Before Christmas and eating stale popcorn.

It was easy to forget when it had been like this. When he used to be happy with them.

He shook his head, but the smile didn’t leave his face. Remus was smiling too, looking delighted that he’d gotten Virgil to laugh. He stepped over to the door of Deceit’s room, opening it with a stupid flourish and a bow so deep one of the feathers fell off his hat. “After you, O’ might lord of darkness and fear,” he said.

Virgil snorted, grabbing the front of Remus’s hat and pulling it down over his eyes as he passed. “C’mon dumbass, we have a prince to rob.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! Idk I wanted to write heist shennanigans and then it turned into Virgil and Remus being dumb and goofing off. Tbh next chapter will probably also be about them goofing off until shit inevitably goes sideways
> 
> I mean, assuming I right the next chapter this decade, or at all, because I have the scheduling awareness of a dead squirrel. Tbh between school and work I've barely written anything in months :,)
> 
> (Also this wasnt beta'd or edited bcz I wrote it in one sitting while v tired oops)

**Author's Note:**

> Tada! Not sure if I'm going to finish this, but I had a lot of fun writing a first chapter! So uhhhh, here are my thoughts on that!
> 
> Writing not-super-nasty-evil Remus is hard, the only way I have to distinguish him from Roman is he's still nasty, but like in a not evil way,, 
> 
> Also I named Deceit Lysle! Because, because lie-ell, get it, get it :D
> 
> I don't have a lot else to say, uhh... if you wanna read more of this hmu and maybe I'll write more, if you want to read my next Sander's Sides fic about Patton adopting a "hamster" then, that's comin soonish


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